Born of the Guide

So many words been penned about the world and it's end; Still, beyond the debate, we have been bound to sit and wait. All the days we have faced are now so soon to be replaced As tomorrows unfold, far from the stories left untold. Once more will come the morn, telling us another day's born; Now a chance to start new as the far light comes shining through. Take from life what we may and carry forth without dismay; Tell your story e'er true so it may stand up to review. When the directions change and you find yourself locked in chains, Down the roads of gravel you'll go forth in barefoot travel. Your destination waits and at last you can see the gates; You'll make it there by noon, to where the bones of the past are strewn. The roads to home are far and it matters not where you are; Leave within the hour, depart the dead and their tower. Follow the setting sun, keep lit the lantern when day's done. Walk steady, straight, and true and you will surely make it through. Once again you'll return, coming home as the camp fires burn; Through all this you're reborn and you'll rise on the coming morn. Those you once left behind are the ones which still have much to find; But somewhere deep inside, to them you'll always be their guide.